


My Sincerest Apology

by AddisonNoxy



Series: Agents of the New Squidbeak Splatoon [5]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Gen, female agents, in any context where he can't be a bombastic octopus dj, writing Octavio is difficult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27337345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddisonNoxy/pseuds/AddisonNoxy
Summary: DJ Octavio. To the New Squidbeak Splatoon, he's the evil commander of the Octarian forces who want to destroy Inkopolis. But to Agent 8, he's an old symbol of power and security that she left behind when she came to the surface.And there are some things she left unsaid.
Series: Agents of the New Squidbeak Splatoon [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970149
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39





	My Sincerest Apology

**Author's Note:**

> "I leave without ceremony.  
> Don't be too sore; I wanted more.  
> My sincerest apology."  
> \- DJ Octavio's mem cake

“...not like he can even go anywhere, he’s locked up tight.”

“I know, but I still don’t trust it. Who knows what that old octo might say?”

“Are you sure you wanna do this, Eight?”

“I thank you for the concern. It will be all of the right.”

It had taken a while for negotiations to conclude, negotiations that both warmed and frustrated Agent 8. She could feel the other agents’ concern for her, wanting to keep her out of harm and away from anything that might spark bad memories. Her appreciation for the big-hearted squids was boundless.

That being the case, how was she supposed to simply disregard the fact that one of the Octarian military’s commanders was being held captive at Tentakeel Outpost? How was she supposed to ignore him? Should she be expected to pretend like he wasn’t there, continuing to weather his steely gaze, feeling his enormous green eyes locked onto her back whenever she came and went? No, she couldn’t do it. And besides, there were still things that she wanted to say to her old leader - things that she wanted to hear, too.

And so, having finally obtained permission from Marie, Eight waved good-bye to the rest of the Splatoon as they retreated from Cuttlefish Cabin, moving further into Tentakeel Outpost, giving her the space for a private conversation with DJ Octavio.

The old Octarian didn’t say a word as she approached his large circular prison, tentacles folded, gaze sharpened and disapproving. Eight frowned, trepidation settling into her as she slowed to a stop five feet from the glass wall that divided them. She knew that she had to have a talk with the man, but… how to begin? Where did she start with explaining what had happened?

Octavio saved her the trouble of thinking of a way to begin the conversation.

[Get me out of here.] he growled in the Octarian tongue.

Eight blinked, hesitating a moment before shaking her head. [I can’t.] she answered.

The DJ scoffed, though it sounded more irritated than amused. [Don’t give me that.] he snapped. [Those squids are gone, you and I are alone. One Super Jump and we’d be free.]

[I can’t free you. You’ve caused too much trouble for the Inklings - ]

[ _Do you speak to me with such disrespect!?_ ] Octavio thundered suddenly, causing Eight to shrink back in alarm; despite the solid wall between the two of them, the pressure of Octavio’s voicee was sending chills up Eight’s body, squashing down her ability to reply, compelling her to submit. [Too much trouble? Everything I’ve done was for Octaria! And _you_ \- a traitor, a _squid friend!_ Who do you think you are, to judge me for the _trouble_ I’ve caused these slimy upstarts?]

The Octoling’s voice caught in her throat at the man’s outburst. She fought the urge to step back, to run away, but Octavio’s indignant voice stirred up something inside her. She couldn't run from this. Eight clenched her fist, eyes downcast. Taking a deep breath, she slowly lowered herself into a kneeling position, glancing up again to meet Octavio’s gaze.

[I’m sorry.] she said softly. [All I know about you is what I’ve been told by the Splatoon, along with some hazy bits of memory. I won’t judge you. But I can’t free you.]

Octavio regarded her coolly, eyes like knives cutting into her soul. It was an entirely different kind of anxiety that this man instilled in Eight, nothing like the fears of adapting to surface life or of being judged by her new idols and friends. To the squids and her fellow freed Octolings, she was just Eight, another resident of the surface who was doing her best with what she had. But when Octavio looked at her, she could feel it - he was looking at someone else. Someone that Eight had forgotten. An individual who was both more intimate and more foreign to her than anyone else.

[Your memories.] The DJ said in a measured voice. [What happened to them?]

[I don’t know.]

[When did you lose them?]

[A few weeks ago.]

[ _Where_ did you lose them?]

[...I don’t know.]

She tried to keep herself from gripping the edges of her skirt as she looked into Octavio’s eyes, the Octarian leader shifting his tentacles.

[Do you remember why you left the domes?] he asked suddenly.

Eight blinked, caught off-guard. [...because of the Squid Sisters.] she replied. [I heard their song, and it made me want to see the surface.]

Octavio laughed, his deep voice shaking the glass orb he was imprisoned in.

[Even a girl without her memory says that.] he mused with a shake of his head, amusement and bitterness mingling in his voice.

[You don’t believe me?]

The old man furrowed his brow, eyes narrowing again. [Not at all.] he replied. [You may be living with the squids now, girl, but don’t go believing all of the bilge that they feed you. That ‘Calamari Inkantation’ that they’re so proud of… it’s something else, for sure. Makes an octopus feel things. But it’s no magic spell that ‘frees our souls,’ that’s pure Inkling propaganda.]

He leaned closer to Eight, almost resting against the glass. [You wanted to see the surface because of the song. But you left because you were weak.] he growled.

Eight frowned, an uncomfortable pit lodging in her stomach at the Octarian’s words. [But… it is not just the Inklings.] she offered, trying to sound firm. [Marina said the same thing - ]

[ _Ida._ ] For the second time, Eight heard that terrible anger shaking Octavio’s voice, making her flinch. [What a tragic waste. What a _cod damn joke!_ ]

Octavio’s size seemed to build with his anger, the octopus swelling inside his prison. [I gave that girl everything she could have wanted!] he shouted. [She was an amazing engineer! A brilliant thinker! She had a place of honor in my squadron, and if our technicians during the Great War had been _half_ as capable as her then we would have stamped out the Inklings in a week! And now she passes through this run-down outpost and looks at me with those judgmental eyes of hers! And Cuttlefish would have me believe that it’s because his spawn _sang a song!_ ]

His voice had become a roar. [It’s not enough to steal my country! He has to steal my own kind, too, and make them look at me like _I’m_ the enemy!]

“Alright, octo creep!” a new voice rang across the courtyard. Octavio’s eyes flicked up from Eight, and the Octoling almost fell over as she twisted around to see Marie stomping towards the two of them, eyes blazing.

“I’ve had just about enough of you shouting at this poor girl!” the white-haired Inkling snapped. “Don’t think just because you’re speaking a different language that I won’t be able to recognize abuse when I hear it - “

“Marie, no, it is okay!” Eight interrupted quickly, springing to her feet and jumping in front of the girl. Marie slowed to a halt, looking at her with surprise. “There is being no problem! It is being my fault!”

Marie looked shocked. “Eight, that is easily the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.” she said incredulously. “And it’s only doubling my determination to shut this guy down and maybe get a nice soundproof tarp for his snow globe - “

“No, it is real! We were… talking about the war! I brought it to him without thought and made him angry!”

The idol paused, and Eight felt a twinge of guilt run through her. She didn’t like lying, especially not to Callie and Marie - she owed them a lot more than she could ever hope to pay. It hurt her heart to be dishonest with the girl, especially when she was only acting out of concern for Eight’s well-being. But she couldn’t let her conversation with Octavio end here. There was more that she had to say. She needed more time.

Marie’s eyes narrowed, searching Eight’s face, and the Octoling hoped that she didn’t look too rueful. A long moment passed before Marie sighed, putting a hand on Eight’s shoulder.

“Alright, Eight.” she said softly. “Alright. I believe you.”

She looked past the girl to Octavio, who was regarding her passively, tentacles once again folded. “But if I hear _any more shouting,_ you’re done.” she continued, her voice taking on a hard edge. “I don’t care if you don’t like the topic, I’m not going to have you screaming at Eight.”

The DJ didn’t answer, meeting Marie’s warning look without flinching. She humphed, gave Eight a small smile and a pat on the shoulder, then turned and made her way back towards the other end of the outpost. Eight could see Three and Four looking her way from around the corner, Four wearing a worried look and Three looking vexed; she gave them a smile and a thumbs up, and the two agents reluctantly allowed Marie to herd them away out of sight.

Eight exhaled, feeling a mountain of tension exit her body, and put a hand to her eyes. That could have gone a lot worse.

[Interesting.]

She glanced back at Octavio; the old Octarian wore a different look now, tentacles curling as he viewed her with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. Eight quickly resumed her kneeling posture, not wanting to anger the old man again - if Marie came back then she would have no way to defend herself this time - when Octavio spoke up.

[You seem pretty desperate to be having this talk with me. If it’s not to free me, or criticize me, then what do you want?]

[...I wanted to apologize.] Eight answered, eyes on the ground. [I wanted to see the surface more than anything. I don’t remember much, but I know that I left a lot of people behind. People who cared about me. People who I let down.]

She felt a prickle behind her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to calm. [I didn’t want to fight the Inklings.] she continued. [I don’t regret coming to the surface. But I know that my actions affect more people than myself.]

[You abandoned those people.]

[I never wanted to abandon _anyone._ ] Eight insisted. [Even so, I know I hurt people when I left. I think about them at night. It pains me.]

[Are you hoping for my forgiveness?] Octavio asked, eying her.

[If you have any for me.] the Octoling replied. [I had a duty to you, even if I disagreed with it, and I failed to keep it. I chose my own desires over the welfare and consideration of my fellow Octarians. I don’t regret my decisions… but I regret leaving without explaining myself, and without saying goodbye. I wish things could have been different.]

Eight bowed her head. [I couldn’t be the soldier you needed me to be.] she said quietly, voice thick with emotion. [My sincerest apologies, commander.]

Octavio didn’t reply; her only answer was the distant howl of the wind which passed through Octo Canyon. She didn’t lift her head, afraid to see what kind of expression the old man was making. Contempt? Fury? What if she looked up and saw nothing but hatred for someone who had betrayed her people? Someone who rightfully scorned Eight for abandoning everything to find happiness by herself?

Eight bit her lip, hands shaking, trying not to lose control as the aged Octarian stared her down.

[...let me tell you a story.] his deep voice rumbled. Eight paused. [A long time ago, there were two… friends. An Octarian and an Inkling. They were inseparable, and would do anything for each other. One would run a hundred miles to the other’s aid, if he only called.]

His tone was odd. The Octoling inclined her head ever so slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the Octarian leader; Octavio’s gaze wasn’t on her anymore, looking at something much further away.

[But fate is sly sometimes.] the DJ continued. [And despite being willing to die for each other, the two friends were forced to part - to side with their own kind over their most special companion. They split off from each other without ceremony. They waged war against each other. They destroyed places that they held dear, all in search of victory. And in the end, one friend had to send the other away, and force him deep underground. It was for the greater good… or so they said.]

Octavio paused for a moment, brow twitching, then cleared his throat. [And now, one hundred years later,] he continued with a touch of sentiment in his voice, [one is a washed-up and forgotten old hero, ridiculed by the people that he sacrificed his best friend for… and the other is a general, trying to give his people the strength to take the fruits of that sacrifice away.]

He glanced down at Eight, who now faced him fully. [Who do you think deserves the surface more?] he asked.

Eight gazed back silently, her eyes meeting Octavio’s. There was something new in the old octopus’s expression - not anger or contempt, but something plainer. More real. Something… hopeful, maybe.

She took a deep breath. [...I don’t think either of them deserve it more.] the Octoling answered steadily. [The surface should belong to everyone. Nobody should have to fight for it.]

_Not even you._

Octavio’s face twisted, and Eight saw a glimpse of pain in his expression. The way he looked at her had changed. No longer a defected soldier of Octaria, but someone entirely new. For the first time, it felt like he was looking at Agent 8.

[...do you have anything else to say for yourself, soldier?] the man asked gruffly.

[Nothing, commander.] Eight replied, bowing her head again. [I hope that everyone who I left behind can find happiness, even without me.]

Octavio grunted. [Then consider yourself formally discharged.] he said, voice low. [You’re relieved of all duties, Agent 8 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. If I ever see you on the battlefield, expect to be treated as an enemy.]

He paused, looking away from her. [...but we can hope it doesn’t come to that. Go look for your happiness wherever you want, it’s not my business anymore.]

His words lifted a weight from Eight’s chest, breaking off the shackles that had locked her hearts down since the first time she remembered what she had left behind in those domes. Something deep within her was shifted, carried away, and the girl felt a certain radiance building inside her as she climbed to her feet.

[Thank you, commander - ]

[I’m not your commander.]

Eight smiled, raising a hand to wipe at her eye. [Thank you, Octavio.]

The old man grunted again, not looking her way. The girl bowed her head again, then turned away from the Octarian leader, leaving him behind and walking with quickening steps towards the shining figures of the New Squidbeak Splatoon who she could see further inside Tentakeel Outpost.

Marie and Callie were standing off to the side, engaged in conversation, while Three paced incessantly in front of a seated Agent 4, hands clasped behind her back. The four of them glanced towards her as Eight approached, and though her vision was getting blurrier, she saw a look of concern cross Three’s normally stoic face.

“Eight, are you alright? What did that old idiot say to you - “ the long-tendriled Inkling began, moving towards Eight, only to be cut off as Eight threw her arms around Three’s neck, a smile spreading across her face. Three staggered back a step, a noise of confusion escaping her.

“I am fine.” she said quietly, squeezing the girl tighter, feeling a single tear roll down her cheek. “I am so good, Three. I said what I needed to say.”

She didn’t think that her friends would understand even if she explained - all they knew about DJ Octavio and the Octarians was conflict, a constant struggle to reclaim the zapfish and avoid being killed. Eight couldn’t blame them for being so hostile towards the aged Octarian leader, especially Marie, who had experienced so much grief because of the man.

But even though Eight had lost most of her memories, she knew that there was more to the Octarians than an evil leader and a desire to destroy the Inklings. It had been eating away at her to think that she would never be able to properly address these feelings inside her, that kept her up at night even when surrounded by the pleasures of the surface. Thinking that she had escaped on her own to live a life of happiness, without even saying goodbye to the people who cared about her, as if they meant nothing at all, as if they were worse than the Inklings… it had been too much.

But now, she could put her worries to rest. She had said what she needed to. Octavio had listened, and told her what she needed to hear.

She silently thanked her old commander again from the bottom of her hearts.

“...I don’t really get it, but I’m glad you’re happy.” Three said awkwardly, patting her lightly on the back.

“Octavio’s just lucky that Marie got there first.” Four said cheerily, having jumped up to pat Eight on the head. “You should’ve seen the look on Three’s face when we heard him yelling - if a squid could kill with a glare…”

“I appreciate you.” Eight said, pulling away from Three. “All of you. You give to me so much joy. Thank you for giving me this chance.”

“Hey, we’ve got your back, Eight.” Callie said with a smile as she and Marie approached. “We’re all in this together. Nobody messes with a member of the Splatoon without dealing with the rest of us, too!”

The Octoling beamed, turning to face the Squid Sisters as Four grinned and nudged Three. “Thank you for giving me the time, Marie.” she said. “Octavio and I are… understood now. If I can repay you - “

“That smile’s all the payment I need, Eight.” Marie said dismissively, waving her off. “I’ve got no love for that wrinkly old fart, but if you got something off your chest then at least he serves _some_ purpose. All’s well. Now let’s go get something to eat.”

“Oh! Crusty Sean’s, please!” Four cheered.

As the group headed back towards the transport pipe, Four and Callie chattering and comparing what tickets they had, Eight looked again towards Octavio’s prison. The old Octarian met her eye for a brief moment before turning away, resolutely facing the far wall, and she felt another small smile cross her face.

Someday, she hoped that she could have another conversation with Octavio, but on equal footing, without a glass wall dividing them and their happiness from each other.


End file.
